Dear Suicide,
Although I have tried to avoid the very
thought of you,
I haven't been able to, lately.
You sound really satisfying, right now.
I have an ugliness that no one else carries.
I am a burden to everyone that I know.
My being isn't important, anymore.
I am merely a dry, existing soul,
taking up God's space, and breathing His air - that's it.
I look at everyone that I'm surrounded by.
Their beauty shines through with importance and dignity.
I am tattered with a sadness that has sunken deep into me, and a weak understanding that's as clear as glass.
There's no reason for me to be here.
Not even a partial reason that is yet to evolve in the future.
As I reflect upon the letters that I wrote to God, I just want to drown in my abyss of sorrow and allow my tears to fall and chase after their misplaced happiness.
I asked the Lord to remove my meaningless little life from the Earth that will continue to turn (whether I'm living on it or not.)
I didn't want to ask Him that ever again,
but I feel myself wanting to -
all because of you, Suicide.
I hate you, and I hate myself.
I have a feeling that I won't last long in this world.
Sincerely, X
YOU ARE READING
Dear Suicide...
Poetry(#12 in Poetry- 3/5/17 |14 in Poetry- 2/28/17 |23 in Poetry- 11/18/16) Have you ever considered picking up a pen and writing to the one you fear most? Well, that's what I've done. When I write to my fears, It's oddly satisfying, because I know that...
